Don't Keep Me Waiting
by Briar Rosee
Summary: What is it that made Tom Riddle become Lord Voldemort? Was it a girl, his upbringing, or was he truly born to be evil? A look in to the life of the half-blood boy from Slytherin. Rating for scenes in the second chapter.
1. Chapter One

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters belonging to J.K. Rowling._

_A/N: This is the beginning entrance to a story I had the idea for the other night. It is quite short, for which I apologize. I promise I will not usually write chapters this short. This is the first story I've written from a perspective like this, so I hope it is halfway decent. Thank You for reading this, please review!_

**Don't Keep Me Waiting: Chapter One.**

A lone white cloud floated across the sky as a classic Armstrong song could be heard throughout the area from a radio in a nearby window. Brushing gently through the trees a warm summer breeze danced in the linens that hung beside a tall fence behind an old white house. Beneath the tree three girls in their mid-teens sat beside a large basket with clothing and a sewing kit, their skirts folded under their legs as they giggled and mended the holes. Across the green grass boys were painting the opposite side of the fence a pristine white with the sleeves of their dirty white shirts rolled up, careful to keep their dark trousers from getting soiled. Nearer to the house was a garden filled with younger children pulling weeds, and chasing one another around laughing.

A large woman with bushy red hair stood at the edge of the small porch with the screen door held open as she peered around the yard. She focused on the small garden, her light blue eyes intent on their subject. A small boy sat alone, struggling to pull out an adamant weed. A smudge of dirt was on his nose, and dark finger prints were traced across his pale forehead leading to the small lift of dark hair that had been messed up as he wiped sweat away. His shirt was no longer a white, but a light brown, with small spots of darker stains. His trousers were well worn, and a few inches too short. Holes in the soles of his shoes revealed the holes in the white socks he wore; a firm reminder that this was no heaven, but a poor orphanage with such little funding that only favored children received good clothes, and this young boy was far from favored. As if to feel the woman's condemning gaze the boy glanced up, his dark blue eyes flashing with fear, though it quickly left as he put a mask up to shield the pain. The woman nodded at him, and shut the screen door as she returned in to the house.

Lowering his head the boy stood and dusted himself off as he walked towards the house, the snickering of children followed his steps. Upon entering the house he was met with a group of older girls gossiping and doing the usual kitchen tasks of the day. His feet led the familiar path, opening the door and leading himself in to the cooler atmosphere of the cellar. The familiar backside of the red haired woman was looking at a picture, a firm object in her hands. The boy clasped his hands behind his back, his head cowering as he took slow steps in to the large, open room.

As if on cue the woman turned around, her eyes glaring coldly to the boy. The dark object held firmly in her hand caught the boys eye. A dark oak wood, a long thin handle, with a slightly wider end; holes drilled in sporadic spots. His eyes widened as she advanced on him, pointing to a small table edge. His feet drug to the table as he leaned over on to the table, the woman quickly tore his pants down, and with a fast swing hit the young boy with the paddle. He flinched, but refused to let a noise out. For many minutes this continued, tears falling out of the corners of his eyes, his bottom glowing red with many welts. The world was turning grey before his tightly shut eyes, and clenched teeth, he felt it slipping away. And then the woman stopped.

"Return to your chores, and you will receive no food for a week." The woman said coldly, placing the paddle in a locked desk.

The boy pulled his shorts up, wincing as the cloth touched his tender skin. He returned quickly to the gardens, pulling weeds as though nothing happened. He could hear the other children snickering as he wobbled to his spot.

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	2. Chapter Two

**I don't own anything that was created by J.K. Rowling.**

_I'm sorry that this is still quite short, I am having a hard time holding myself back because I want to jump straight in to the story line, but this is important information for the story. Thanks for reading this, please read and review!_

**Don't Keep Me Waiting: Chapter Two. **

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN INVOLVING SEX AND RAPE.**

A young Tom Riddle sat alone on the worn matress of the orphanage, the curtains blew with wind in the window as the sun was setting. He had a bottom bed in the center of the room, there were five sets of beds, each set was three beds tall. He rubbed his bottom remorsefully, wondering what he had done to deserve it this time, though noting to himself that it didn't usually matter. After an incident when he had been 7 the whole orphanage was against him.

The older children had been taunting Tom, laughing at him because he was smaller than the others, that no one would ever want to adopt him. He had gotten so upset that the older boy flew across the lawn, into the fence 20 feet away when Tom pushed him. For a few days after that the children left him alone, but then they returned, only worse. They would put animals in his bed, and blame him for letting them in; rip holes in his clothing that he would have to wear regardless, and perhaps his least favorite was when they would pee on him during his sleep. Of course nothing was as worse than when he had heard that his father was still alive. The children laughed, saying that atleast both of their parents were dead, his just didn't want him.

A laughing eckoed throughout the hallway as he heard steps up the stairs. Tom layed on his bed and pretended to be sleeping. He heard the door open, then shut and latch shut as three pairs of foot steps were heard, the final one locking the door. Tom closed his eyes tightly, clutching the pillow tightly under his head, hoping that they would leave him be.

"Look what we have here, little Riddle thinks he can ignore us." A voice laughed coldly. Tom was rolled on his stomach, breathing through a small gap after the pillow. He heard the boys step closer to his bed, one on each side, the other shut the window.

"Listen, Riddle. We don't want to hurt you, too badly. We just want to have a little fun." Another boy said. "Are you going to make this easy, or hard?"

Tom sat still, trying to hold his breath as his heart beat sped up, the three boys sat on the sides of his bed. He clenched his fists tightly as he felt a clammy hand touch the skin on his back, raising his shirt slightly. His body stiffened as he felt two of the boys grab his arms tightly, pinning them down.

"If you make any noise, you'll be sorry, Riddle." A voice said in a silent whisper in his ear, licking it to empathize the end. Tom tried hard not to jump as he felt a set of hands pulling his trousers harshly. He felt a pair of hands on his bare legs, pulling them apart slightly, holding them apart as he tried shutting them.

"Stop." Tom cried trying to free his arms, but the older boys held tightly.

Tom could feel a boy climb between his legs, he gulped heavily, hearing the boys all laugh deeply as the one on top of Tom leaned down, kissing Tom's back as he reached a hand around to grab the smaller boys penis, rubbing it forcefully. The boy pushed Tom's shirt up, rubbing his firm chest as Tom felt a hard object against his sore bottom. Tom bit the pillow as he felt the pain of the older boy penetrating his virgin bottom. The older boy continued to play with Tom's penis, laughing at it's arousal, forcefully kissing the back of the younger boys neck. Tom bit the pillow in pain as he felt the older boy grinding himself into him with fervor before finally allowing himself to cum. The older boy withdrew himself and laughed as he put his clothes on.

"Remember, if anyone hears of this, You will be sorry." The older boy said, opening the door as the three left, leaving Tom to cry in to his pillow, pulling the blankets above his head. He reached down and pulled his bottoms up, feeling a warm liquid. Looking to his fingers he saw a familiar red liquid and cringed. He stood and walked slowly to the bathroom, watching cautiously.

Tom lay motionless in his bed that night, staring up to the bottom of the other boys bed above him. He could hear the soft breathing of the sleeping boys in the room. He couldn't help but wonder if the other boys had been touched in such ways as he had, or if perhaps he was the only one. A warm tear slid down his cheek silently as he realized that this would not be a one time occurrence, that it would happen until he left the orphanage, or until he was large enough to keep the boys off. Both options were highly unlikely options.

_'Why did my father hate me? What was so bad about my mother and I that he wished such a fate on me? Could he not have just killed me? At least then I would have had an innocent childhood, I envy the children that I see on the trips to the store. What allows them the liberty to play, and be so happy?' _Tom brooded in his thoughts, unmoving from his position for fear that one of the others would awake. _'One day, I will make myself stronger than these boys; I will right their wrongs; I won't let poor, defenseless children experience adultery before they are teens.'_

Tom fell asleep that night with dreams of a perfect world that was filled with purity, chastity, cleanliness, and a beauty that a 10 year old boy in an orphanage would normally not imagine; though he was not the average boy from a low class orphanage.

Tom Marvollo Riddle was small for his age, he was often mistaken for as being at most 8 years old, though he was nearly 11. This on its own would provoke taunting at such an establishment, yet Tom grew to be even more of a target when he entered school and excelled at nearly every course entered in, he was quickly advanced to studies far beyond his years and was expected to tutor the other, less fortunate students of the orphanage.

As expected, the horrid occurrence that happened to Tom became commonplace after that evening, though it was not always the same boy enacting out his arousal. As July came to a close and a month had passed, Tom had grown accustomed to the event. He refused to grant their desires to hear his cries, he would clench his teeth together as he buried his head in his pillow to avoid them from seeing it. Yet, after some time passed, he no longer felt pain... what he felt felt much worse than any pain could ever feel. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, and afraid. For this, he hated the three boys, he hated them nearly as much as he hated his father, but only because his father was to blame for it all. He knew that a boy his age should be outside playing with bugs, and chasing girls, not getting abused from every adult in the house in such degrading ways. Tom knew that once summer ended he would enter a school for boys, he would be gone for 3/4 of the year, and he hoped that should he study hard enough, he could advance in years. The sooner he finished school, and the better he did, the quicker he could enter the work force, and make something for himself to show that he was better than the filth that he had been brought to know.

Tom was determined to make a better life for himself, he would have the best life. He would dine with kings, and have men bow before him. Beautiful women would wait for his call, and gone would be the days of worrying for frugal spending; he dreamt of a wonderful, elegant life... but that is all that it was, dreams. He was constantly reminded this as he looked at the world and realized that dreams rarely came true. On the night of August first, the night before his eleventh birthday, Tom Riddle vowed to himself that he would make his dreams come true, regardless of the height of his mountains he would climb them, and he would come out on top of every task.

_Review Please! Thanks! _

_ 3 Briar Rose_


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